


The Santa Clause 2 - Bernards point of view

by Landriel



Category: Santa Clause (Movies)
Genre: Bernard being sassy, Christmas, Elves, Sassy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Landriel/pseuds/Landriel
Summary: This is the second movie entirely from Bernards point of view. So it's missing Scott meeting Carol and other parts, where Bernard isn't present. Instead you will learn a lot about Bernards tasks at the workshop, his thoughts and get ready for a whole lot of sass coming your way!
Relationships: Santa Claus/Mrs. Claus
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Bernard was eating the best lunch of his life. Three pitas stacked onto his plate. He'd been very protective over his food ever since Neil had yanked it out of his mouth eight years ago.  
A crackling sound came from his satchel. Annoyed, he took out the radio.  
"Security center to head elf, please come! I repeat, please come! "  
With one last longing look at his plate, he straightened the strap of his shoulder bag and ran. It wasn't often that North Pole Security would sound the alarm and he dreaded the thought of what might have happened.

"What happened?" He asked the security elf, panting.  
A sharp pain shot up his left leg and he gritted his teeth together. Dr Hismus had diagnosed him with plantar fasciitus, an inflammation of the tendons in the heel area. Movement made it worse, but Bernard didn't even bother to rest. Christmas was in a month and there was a lot of work!  
"An airplane directly overhead," replied the security elf, "they are listening to the North Pole. No idea how much they have already noticed."  
Bernard let out a hiss of air through his teeth. "Time to get Santa."  
He pressed a button and shortly afterwards a platform rose from the ground. Santa stood on it, looking into a telescope. The top of the telescope broke the snow cover on the ground of the North Pole and a camera emerged.  
"A partridge in a pear tree," the boss informed everyone.  
"Bring us to ELFcon 1."  
Buttons were pressed, levers operated. The display jumped into the red area with the label ELFcon 1. The highest alarm level. An alarm would sound in the workshop to tell the elves to stop their work immediately and be quiet. Bernard pushed and turned the settings on the system, an expression of sheer concentration on his face. If they were discovered, it was all over. The humans would bring their machines, break through the ice with their drills and destroy Elfburg, the elven city underground. Santa would be arrested and the elves would be put in laboratories and examined. Bernard gulped at the thought of sharp needles in his skin. The plane was approaching on the radar. A cold sweat of fear formed on his forehead and he stared at the screen with silent fear. Everyone in the room held their breath.  
"You better watch out, you better not cry ..."  
The first line of "Santa Claus is coming to town" rang out through the loudspeakers. At a volume that the plane was sure to catch. Bernard and Santa looked around in panic.  
"Find out where that music's coming from!" Hissed Santa.  
A blond curly elf operated the locator. A floor plan of the workshop appeared on the screen. The image turned and a red dot lit up.  
"I got it on the locator", informed the elf.  
Santa and Bernard leaned forward to examine the position and nodded to each other. The head elf followed his boss through the workshop to the reindeer stables. An elf who was about to feed one of the reindeer a carrot looked around, confused. Santa pointed to the doors to the sleigh room. Bernard began to heat up on the inside. Whoever was responsible for this could would get, what was coming to them! He would assign that person to the garbage disposal for the whole month, or better yet, the job of clearing the stables of reindeer droppings. With a toothbrush!  
The doors to the sleigh room opened to reveal two feet that protruded from the sleigh and dangled to the beat of the music. Two feet in pointy brown shoes that went with two legs in red and black striped pants. Bernard only knew one elf in these clothes!  
Santa and Bernard ran to the sleigh. The boss pressed one hand to the elf's mouth, with the other he switched off the singing Santa Claus toy.  
"We're on ELFcon 4. All clear," came a voice from the loudspeakers.  
The two breathed a sigh of relief.  
"Curtis, what do you say we get you headphones this Christmas," Santa suggested. "All right, guys, back to work."  
The Stable elves took pitchforks and buckets and went to work. Bernard, who had positioned himself behind Curtis, was now leaning over him menacingly. Anger sparkled in his brown eyes. He already knew the young elf from his days at college and even then he had robbed him of the last nerve. Whenever something went wrong you could be sure that it was Curtis. It wasn't the first and it wouldn't be the last time Bernard wondered how on earth Curtis had passed his elven exam. Not to mention the current position as keeper of the handbook and his successor as head elf. One thing was certain: Bernard would do everything in his power to ensure that Curtis did not overtake him and throw everything into total chaos!  
“Curtis! You are 900 years old! Grow up! ” He hissed.  
"Bernard!" Called the voice of Santa.  
With one last spiteful smile, he turned away and followed his boss. The pain in his heel flared up again, making him limp. What a day! And he didn't even get to eat his pitas!


	2. 2

“You know, i didn’t break any of the rules,” Curtis defended himself as they continued their round to check on the workshop. “According to the Santa handbook …”  
“The handbook! Curtis, do you go pee pee with that thing? ” Bernard interrupted, annoyed.  
Seriously. It couldn’t be healthy to carry that thing around with you 24 hours a day. Curtis was the best example of this.  
“It says elves are encouraged to listen to music. It makes them more creative, more productive and more alert! ”  
Bernard rolled his eyes. Oh yes, Curtis had been incredibly alert the way he played music at full volume and almost revealed the North Pole.  
“Look out!” Shouted the little elf suddenly.  
The three had ducked just in time before a reindeer galloped over their heads. Laughing, it took a curve over the houses, where it crashed to the ground behind the roofs.  
“It’s okay,” assured an elf as the trio got up.  
“Oof. That’s gonna leave a mark. Is that Blitzen? Looks like Prancer. Who is that?”, Said Santa, glancing in the direction where the reindeer had fallen. Bernard and Curtis followed him.  
“That was Chet,” Curtis explained with an embarrassed smile. “A reindeer in training.”  
“Please tell me he’s early in training.” Santa shook his head in a mixture of disapproval and astonishment.  
“Wow, nice fall.”  
With these words he patted Bernard on the shoulder and set off for the workshop.  
“Curtis, when are you gonna tell him?” Bernard demanded.  
“Not now!” Whispered the younger one and trudged past him.  
He followed him morosely.

Oh yes, the clause. The clause that said Santa had to find a wife by Christmas Eve or he would lose his job. Curtis had informed him a month ago that he had found it by accident while Bernard was sorting Santa’s papers. Directly after that a paperweight had missed Curtis just barely. Which had resulted in a broken paperweight and a hole in the wall of Santa’s office. When Santa questioned the hole, Bernard only replied: “Unstable building structure. The place is several hundred years old. I’m saying the whole time that it urgently needs to be renovated! “

The hole was eventually removed, but Curtis was still there. Bernard had to admit he wouldn’t have minded if it had been the other way around. Fortunately, Santa wasn’t someone who paid attention to mundane things like paperweights and so the head elf had been able to replace it successfully. Only Hannah, one of the cleaning elves, hadn’t been so easily fooled.

~A month before~

"Say, Bernard, wasn’t the paperweight actually red?”  
The head elf swallowed. “Oh that thing? Why, it has always been Like that. ”  
At that moment Curtis had stepped in. “It depends on how the light falls. As with the color turquoise. Blue and green are very similar. With different incidence of light it looks sometimes green and sometimes blue! “  
"Uh-huh,” Hannah said without mentioning that red and black were two completely different colors.

Walking through the workshop with Santa put Bernard in a better mood. Right now his boss had disappeared under a life-size motorized toy car.  
“Ok, try it.”  
One of the elves pulled the winding cord and the engine roared. The elves applauded the success and Bernard nodded appreciatively to his workers.  
“Ok, good,” Santa groaned and got up. “Just one more screw on the flange and it’s ready for Christmas. Good job, guys!”  
He passed a group of elves who were working on another toy. “You did a great job with the suspension. Thinking outside the box! I love it! “  
An elf from the bakery came up to them. She had a tray in her hands.  
"Do you want a cookie, Santa?”  
“Do I want a cookie? Of course! What’s fresh?” Santa smiled at her and took one of the cookies. “Just as sweet as you!”  
Next, they stood at the mechanical toy station. An elf with a red and white knitted hat looked sullenly at a kangaroo, which only hopped miserably across the table and fell over again.

“Alexander, let’s think,” said Santa. “Take the hat off.”  
Alexander followed the instructions and the kangaroo jumped in great leaps.  
“ Too much counterweight,” explained the boss.  
“Thanks! You’re the man, Santa ”, Alexander beamed and shook his hand.  
Santa laughed. “That’s why they gave me the big belly. So I don’t fall over. ”  
He took a few steps forward and leaned his head back, looking up at the balustrade. “Joey, how is that static-free tinsel coming?”  
An elf leaned over the railing. Then he turned to his comrades. “Guys, Santa wants to see the new tinsel!”  
A bunch of elves appeared above them and before they knew it, Santa and Bernard were covered in a mass of glittering red and silver. Curtis had been out of reach. The elves laughed at the successful prank.  
“You know, I could come up there and take care of it the ugly way,” thought Santa. “Or…we go outside and play some football!”  
The elves cheered enthusiastically and ran outside.  
Bernard tore the tinsel off his head and angrily tossed it aside. His good mood was gone as quickly as it had come.  
“Curtis, you have to tell him right now!” He ordered with a raised finger.  
Curtis sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know, he’s so happy right now.” Then frustration grabbed him and his round face turned red. “And why do I have to be the one to tell him?” He gestured rebelliously with his arm.  
“Because”, Bernard hurled at him and stabbed his index finger in his chest, “I’m the head elf. I don’t give bad news. It’s one of the perks of being my seniority!”  
Curtis could handle the trouble all by himself! After all, he had put it off for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this funny? Pls tell me if it is!!


	3. 3

Even tinsel football didn't help improve Bernard's mood. Still, he forced a smile and cheered his elves on. Santa had introduced the variant of the American sport. And indeed it helped the elves to let out the frustration of long work and to free themselves from pent-up energies. He never played along himself. Not only because as a head elf he had to maintain his composure. Bernard was simply not gifted in sport. Balls always bounced off him and his throws hit everything-Quintin's shins, Curtis glasses-except the target. Although of course he would never admit that.  
The elves, meanwhile, had thrown themselves on Santa. Everyone celebrated the victory. Bernard leaned down to his boss. "Santa. We need to talk."  
It was about time to let him know. Curtis had wasted enough time and now they only had a month left. Together they made their way to Santa's office. Bernard's stomach tightened. That wouldn't end well.

On arrival, the head elf fetched Santa's coat and handed it to him. To make matters worse, there was also the annual meeting of the Council of Legendary Figures. Absolutely nothing went as it should and the pain in Bernard's stomach intensified even more when he thought about what still had to be done.  
"Strange," muttered Santa, tugging at his waistband, "those fit yesterday"  
A worried "Uh-oh" came from the puppet stage. Bernard didn't know which of the elves had come up with the idea of furnishing Santa's rooms with hand puppets brought to life. He just knew that they were extremely annoying and that their comments did not contribute to the situation.  
"Hot cocoa for you!"  
“This is not a good time, Abby!” Bernard rebuked the cocoa elf.  
Not that he had anything against Abby. She was kind, helpful, a good listener, as her job required. But she wasn't Judy. Judy had had a mental breakdown about two years ago. All of a sudden. Screeching hysterically, she had run around the workshop, throwing everything around her that was within reach. When Bernard had approached her to calm her down, she had grabbed a pot of cocoa and flung the scalding contents right in his face.  
It was only thanks to Dr Hismus excellent care and strong healing magic that it hadn't left a trace. Triggered by the incident, his own head elf magic had also flared up. He had spent a month in the elfirmary plagued by febrile seizures. The flare-up of the head elf magic actually only happened once, namely when an elf became the head elf. It changed them, made them taller and physically older, as a sign that this elf was a leader and had to be respected. As a result, Bernard had outwardly aged from a teenager to a young adult. Judy couldn't be helped and so she was put into retirement. The last Bernard heard from her was that she resided in Las Vegas. He never thought she would retire before him.  
"I sent Dasher to get Brazilian cocoa beans," Abby snapped him from his thoughts.  
"What's the bad news?" Asked Santa and looked sharply at the elf.  
"What do you mean?" She replied, putting on a fake innocent smile.  
Bernard knew that smile. He suspected evil.  
"Whenever you play the designer bean card, it means bad news."  
Abby's face fell. Without a word she handed him a roll of parchment.  
"What are you doing with the nice and naughty list list?" Asked Santa.  
Bernard shot Abby a sour look over his shoulder and put his arms on his hips.  
"Just don't shoot the messenger." Guilty, she looked down.  
Sighing, Santa put on his reading glasses and unrolled the document without taking his eyes off Abby.  
"It's Charlie," she managed.  
"Sheen?" Santa frowned. "I thought he straightened out."  
"Not that Charlie."  
Bernard looked back and forth between Santa and Abby. Chin raised defiantly. She didn't mean ...?  
“My Charlie? My son Charlie is on the naughty list? ” Santa looked like he had been hit by a bag of bricks.  
The puppets shrieked in horror and clapped their hands over their mouths.  
"There's gotta be a mistake." His voice sounded like someone whose entire world was broken. And somehow it was the case.  
“We don't make mistakes. Sorry Santa, please excuse me. ” Abby fled the room with her head bowed.  
Bernard was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to follow Abby to comfort her. Contrary to his reputation as a cold-hearted jerk, it hurt him very much to see his elves so emotionally distressed. On the other hand, he knew that his duty as a head elf was also to stand by Santa and this priority unfortunately outweighed.  
"Is that what you and Curtis wanted to tell me?" Now Santa sounded reproachful.  
At that moment Curtis burst into the room, pushing the magnifying glass device.  
“You told him? Great! Let's get you ready for that meeting! "  
“I can't have the meeting here. I have to see Charlie! ", Santa replied, while Bernard closed his coat.  
The head elf glared angrily at Curtis. "Number two, tell him right now!"  
He wasn't going to let Curtis get away that easily! The younger one returned the glare, making him look more like a defiant toddler due to his small size and chubby cheeks.  
"Tell me what? Come clean, guys! " Demanded Santa.  
Curtis sighed. "Santa, there is a clause."  
"That would be me."  
"No, another clause."  
"Curtis, in case you haven't noticed, this time of the year the malls are filled with other Santa Clauses."  
"No, there is another Santa Clause. "  
"Get on with it!" The puppets screamed.  
"This was in your predecessor's coat," Curtis put Santa's business card into the holder of the device.  
"Yes, I remember," said the boss and recited what was written. "And the rest would be history, right?"  
"Apparently our number two", Bernard held up two fingers, " the keeper of the handbook, seems to have overlooked the single most important detail in the history of christmas!" His voice grew louder with every word.  
Anyone who knew Bernard knew that the elf was on the verge of a full blown outburst. Not much was missing and he would freak out. The elf was often sassy and cynical. True outbursts of anger were rare with Bernard and therefore feared.  
"Wow! One mistake in 900 years, "remarked Curtis dryly.  
Bernard snorted. "Look!" He took a magnifying glass out of the device.  
Santa blinked. "I can't see that."  
"Better now?" He took out the next bigger one.  
"Ehhh ..."  
Magnifying glass 2.  
"Or now?"  
"It's getting there..."  
Magnifying glass 3.  
"I can't see anything!" Sighed Santa.  
With a little effort, Bernard took out the last and largest magnifying glass.  
“Ah, now I see. The cardholder agrees to choose a woman of his choice ... true love ... not valid in the state of Utah ... Holy ... MATRIMONY? I HAVE TO GET MARRIED? "  
Bernard swallowed. "Yes, it's the Mrs. Clause."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Judys story is based off of what David Krumholtz said about her not being in SC 2 and 3 in his livestream.


	4. 4

The puppets began to hum the wedding march. Bernard felt the urge to throw them against the wall.  
"What if I don't want to get married?" Santa argued as he tightened his belt.  
Curtis gasped for air. "Oh dear! The desantafication process has begun!"  
Santa looked at him in disbelief. "The desantafication ... are you telling me that the clause says that I can no longer be Santa if I don't get married?"  
Bernard bit his lip and reluctantly nodded. Yes, that was exactly what it meant, and he cursed Curtis for not bringing it up earlier. How was Santa going to find a wife when he had Charlie to look after? Not to mention the Christmas preparations! Presents had to be made and the sled brought up to date! The naughty and nice list also had to be checked again thoroughly to avoid any errors. Unthinkable if a child couldn't find presents because a name had been misread.  
Santa sighed dejectedly and fell into the armchair. “What about the kids? What about the elves? What about you guys? "  
Even if the children always came first, the thought of losing his home and his job scared Bernard. He had been incredibly proud at his appointment ceremony for head elf. For hundreds of years he held the record of being the youngest head elf appointed and the longest in office. To stop working for Santa, to stop leading the elves, was inconceivable to him.  
“It's not completely hopeless, sir. You still have time to find a wife, ”he tried to cheer Santa up.  
"How much time do i have, Curtis?"  
"28 days," the elf answered flatly.  
"28 days. So I have to find a wife by Christmas. "  
"By Christmas Eve actually" Curtis corrected.  
Santa sighed again. "I guess it's over then."  
"No!" Curtis opened his eyes, startled. “You can’t think that way! Please don't give up hope. Because if you do, we must too. ”The last words were clearly difficult for him.  
Bernard looked down sympathetically. It was one of the few times that the head elf didn't know what to do or say. Santa was looking back and forth between the elves when his beard suddenly began to shrink. Bernard and Curtis took a terrified step back. The puppets shrieked in horror.  
The boss felt the now short beard. "Christmas is getting very complicated."

"Reindeer poop!"  
Bernard thrust the fork into his food in frustration. Curtis sat across from him, legs dangling. The two had holed up in Bernard's office to discuss the situation undisturbed. Now the younger one raised his eyebrows reproachfully. Swearing was against the elven code.  
"Can you blame me?" Mumbled the head elf, chewing.  
No, Curtis couldn't. The situation was really tricky.  
"Somebody has to take care of things here while Santa is away.", He considered.  
Bernard snorted. "Um, hello? Head elf right in front of you! It's not as if I sat around lazy at old Santa. "  
In fact, most of the work had stuck with Bernard. It wasn't like Scott Calvin's predecessors were bad. They just weren't that committed. In fact, there had been a rule that forbade the elves from having an emotional bond with their boss. Christmas was a business and emotions would only get in the way. When a Santa left, another came. Work was waiting, no time for grief. Scott Calvin had changed everything, however. He was the first Santa to show real appreciation and even involve the elves in his private life. Bernard had been surprised to meet Charlie. Usually a Santa left his old life behind and never looked back. Scott was dear to all of them with his warm and funny manner. It still sometimes surprised Bernard how important Santa was to him.  
Speaking of Charlie ... how had the boy managed to maneuver himself onto the naughty list? Bernard remembered him as the small, courageous and faithful boy who moved his father to accept his role as Santa Claus. However, a lot could change in eight years. He was a teenager now and they were known to misbehave a lot. But Charlie?  
"I have it! I have the perfect idea! "  
Bernard spun around so suddenly that one of his black corkscrew curls smacked him in the eye. He had to blink several times to keep the stinging away. It was the second time that he had been lost in thought. A top elf should be more attentive.  
"Your ideas are usually far from perfect," he noted.  
Curtis was beaming eagerly. “This one is actually good! I promise! So, you still know the pantograph that Quintin built? I did a bit of work on it ... "  
Bernard didn't hear the rest. All the color had drained from his face. Curtis had tampered with Quintin's invention without informing him beforehand. They were doomed.


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Toy Santa

"How was the meeting?" Bernard asked while Santa followed him and Curtis into the workshop.  
Santa had hardly come out of the door when the little elf had already taken possession of him. Bernard didn't believe in telling their boss about the half-baked idea right away. Surely he was tired now and needed to rest. However, they were running out of time.  
The pantograph was the heart of the workshop. The machine consisted of a large, glass column on which a huge ball was enthroned. Countless colorful buttons framed the colossus made of glass and steel. Two conveyer belts transport the toys in and out. It was the perfect amalgamation of technology and magic.  
Santa sighed. “Well, I had to tell them about my dilemma. That thing with Charlie was quite a shock for everyone. But they agree with me on one thing: I cannot be in two places at the same time. "  
"Maybe you can!" Said Curtis, looking out from behind the pantograph control panel.  
Then he turned to the other elves in the room. "Hey guys. Can i have the room for myself? Take a cocoa break. Relax, take your time. "  
The elves willingly left the room and the large doors closed behind them. Bernard had to stifle a growl. He didn't like the way Curtis was ordering the elves around like the job was already his.  
"I want to show Santa some improvements on the pantograph," said Curtis.  
Bernard threw up his hands in frustration. So the disaster took its course.  
"I tripled the RAM and added a fuzzy little circuit."  
Santa and Bernard followed Curtis, who was walking excitedly across the room. As usual, Bernard had his hands clasped behind his back. A gesture that not only gave him respect, but also kept him from nervously playing with his fingers or wrapping them around Curtis' neck and squeezing tight.  
"Did you expose the power source because of the electromagnetic energy?" Asked Santa, pointing to something.  
Bernard didn't understand a word. Like all elves, he was also gifted with craft, but he preferred simple technology. Pulley blocks, steam engines, there was nothing wrong with that. But when he thought of the discovery of electricity and the dangers involved, he shuddered. Unfortunately, he was unable to prevent modern technology from finding its way into the North Pole.  
"No, I only did that because it looks cool," said Curtis, with a decidedly indifferent look, and fiddled with a few switches.  
Santa crossed his arms in appreciation and nodded. Then he frowned. "Wait ... you've tripled the RAM ... I know what you're getting at! I won't go in there! "  
Bernard leaned down to Curtis. "Right," he said, as if teaching a toddler, "and besides, a copy of Santa won't solve our problem! It would be a toy!"  
"But this would be a special toy!" Argued the younger one.  
"Let's hear, Curtis," demanded Santa.  
Curtis was now in his element. “I added an extra circuit. The doppelganger looks and thinks just like you. While you're with Charlie and looking for a wife ... "  
"My doppelganger will melt in front of my fire place," interrupted Santa resignedly.  
Curtis raised his index finger. "No, the toy Santa will deal with business up here!"  
"I can deal with business up here!", Bernard answered and stepped up to the boss.  
Why did everyone seem to forget him? Exactly for such a case there was the role of the head elf! And who would be more competent than he himself? Curtis certainly not.  
Almost urgently, he was talking to Santa. "Santa, if the elves find out we made a switch," he gasped theatrically and clapped his hands over his mouth, "No, no! This machine is not the answer!"  
Curtis grinned arrogantly, sure of his victory. Then he looked down. A mouse had crawled onto the conveyer belt and started the mechanism.  
"Hey, you, you, shoo!" The elf tried in vain to scare it away.  
But too late. The little rodent literally ran into the machine.  
"No no no!"  
All three hurried to the other side. It flashed and hissed as two beams of light moved up and down. It reminded Bernard of one of those laser copiers Charlie had shown him at home.  
Smoke billowed out and the mouse ran down the conveyor belt, squeaking but unharmed. Her copy of the toy followed it, mimicking the movement. Bernard and Curtis got on their knees and watched the spectacle with fascination.  
"You can’t get much better!" Curtis triumphed. "I promise it won't hurt a bit."  
"I'm going in," Santa decided spontaneously.  
"I can't watch this" Bernard squeaked in anguish and stood at the front of stained glass. He had turned his back to them, his hand pressed over his eyes.  
Images were scrolling in his mind's eye, each worse than the other. Santa, burned beyond recognition, Santa having a heart attack in the machine.  
Curtis pressed a few buttons while Santa climbed onto the conveyor belt. Now Bernard dared to look. Immediately his stomach turned and he immediately turned away again. Santa was rolled into the machine. Electricity gathered around the globe above them and discharged in blinding flashes. Screams rang out from within. Bernard pressed another hand over his mouth. His fears seemed to come true and he felt like vomiting.  
The smoke cleared and the shape of Santa was blurred. A crooked grin formed on Curtis' face.  
"It’s perfect!"  
"That's because it's me, Einstein," said Santa sarcastically.  
The grin was wiped off Curtis' face. Immediately he and Bernard hurried to Santa's side. The head elf cursed his heel for slowing him down.  
"Santa, are you okay? Is everything alright? ”He asked concerned.  
“I got a shock in there. Is there supposed to be a shock?"

The next moment Bernard was screeching in a pitch not unlike a female elf. The toy Santa was stark naked. Stark naked and anatomically correct, which meant that the poor elf got to see more than he wanted to.  
"He's naked!" Shouted Bernard and Curtis at the same time.  
"Throw something over him!" Ordered Santa.  
"It's incredible!" Curtis was beaming like the sun itself.  
"Indeed," agreed Santa as he put a blanket around the shoulders of his doppelganger.  
"Can he speak?"  
Curtis shrugged and nodded to him as a sign that he should give it a try.  
"Hello?"  
The toy Santa stammered something unintelligible before opening his eyes and repeating the greeting.  
Bernard couldn't help but stare at the scenario with his mouth open. He would have nightmares of naked Santas for a long time.  
"Ho, ho, ho!", Santa tried.  
His doppelganger repeated this, too, albeit a little lame.  
"Not bad!" Said the boss.  
„Not bad yourself," replied the other.  
"I can't put my finger on it yet, but there is something I like about you." Santa smiled.  
“Watch him for a moment. I'll be right back, ”he instructed Curtis.  
"He'll be right back!" The toy called stupidly and made the young elf laugh.  
Santa quickly took Bernard aside. "Bernard, I need your help here."  
"What do you mean?" Asked the head elf, croaking, not knowing anything good.  
"I have to check on Charlie and I want you to convince the elves that Toy Santa is me."  
Bernard's black brows almost disappeared under the brim of his beret. "Hm, have you seen that thing?"  
"Yeah, and I think it can work if you keep the elves at a distance and tell them I've changed my look."  
"But ... but ... I won’t lie to all the elves!"  
Lying was the second thing against the elven code, just after cursing. Surely Santa couldn't really expect him to lie to everyone! He was the leader, he was trusted. He was not allowed to abuse this trust! This was worse than anything he'd imagined. But in Santa's gaze he saw clearly that he had no other choice.


	6. 6

"I myself think he looks absolutely terrific!" Bernard's voice sounded strangely shrill in his own ears. He swung his arms with mocked enthusiasm, trying to hold back the tremors in his hands.  
“He hasn't looked this fresh in years! There’s now a more supple veneer to his skin and an added luster to his hair! You could almost say there's... “, now his breath caught. "A toy-like quality to him!"  
Curtis grinned with crossed arms and Abby gave him a resigned look. Other elves stared up at the stairs with their mouths half open, as if they weren't sure what to make of it. Bernard himself didn't believe what he was saying.  
“He is very happy with his new look! I would caution you all not to stare at him, point at him, or use the word plastic! Okay? ”Bernard tried a reassuring grin that felt more like a tortured grimace to himself. "Okay! Thank you! That was all! Back to work, please! "  
The sea of elves dispersed and the head elf puffed his cheeks. It had been one of the few times in his immortal life that he had to lie and this time it had almost taken a physical effort to bring himself to do it.

As soon as he was sure he would go unnoticed, he snuck out of the workshop and entered Santa's office. The watch lay forgotten on the desk, next to an empty cup of cocoa and a plate full of cookie crumbs. Bernard grabbed it and was about to start back when the door creaked. Panicked, he stuffed the object under his tunic and dissolved into a rain of gold sparks.

His house, like that of all elves, was rather spartan. A bed with bedside table and wardrobe, an adjoining dining room with table and chair and a small bathroom. The only decoration consisted of medals and framed papers hanging over his bed and some paintings by his family. A workbench filled one corner of the room. Tools and brushes were neatly arranged next to each other. Bernard hated messiness. He could have screamed every time he saw an elf carelessly leaving his utensils lying around.  
With quick movements he took out the watch and sat down at the workbench. His delicate elf fingers automatically reached for the tools and went to work. Every elf, regardless of their position, had a certain level of craftsmanship and Bernard was no exception.

"Before you go, take a look at your watch," Bernard said to Santa, who was about to saddle Comet.  
"Hey, can’t go anywhere without that thing" said the boss, looking at him proudly.  
“I've done some work on it.” Bernard couldn't help but smile. "Do you like it?"  
Santa couldn't take his eyes off. "I love it! The craftmanship is beautiful!"   
“It has a power reserve that shows how much magic you have left. It's up to ten at the moment. "  
Unlike the elves, Santa didn't have magic of his own. It was the magic of the North Pole that gave him his power. If he stayed away too long, this disappeared. That was why Scott hadn't been able to visit Charlie too often.  
The only exception was the three-month vacation after Christmas. Santa had to spend the rest of the year in the North Pole.  
"That should be enough," waved Santa off.  
"Every time you use magic, the meter drops a little!" Warned Bernard. "If it's at zero, you can't go back to the North Pole!"  
Comet uttered an "uh-oh".  
"Then let’s not get it to zero," whispered Santa and leaned close to the head elf.  
“Look at me.” Bernard took the boss's arms. He couldn't explain it, but somehow he felt like he had to be close to him. As if something terrible was imminent and this was the last opportunity to share such a moment with him. He wanted to hug the white-bearded man, but knew that it was considered inappropriate. "What is the most important thing?"  
"For you not to touch Santa?" Joked his boss.  
Bernard let go of him abruptly. "No, for you to come back!"  
With one last smile he watched as Santa mounted the reindeer and took the reins in hand. A stable elf handed him the cap. And Comet galloped off, eager to see Charlie again. Bernard looked after the two thoughtfully before they disappeared to a small point on the horizon.  
"Don't worry, he'll be fine," said a voice behind him.  
Quintin stepped out and put one arm around Bernard. The head of research and development was Bernard's best friend. They already knew each other as little elflings and had always been inseparable.  
"You shouldn't be here at all!" He reprimanded the blond curly elf.  
He just rolled his eyes. “You don't think you can hide something like that from me! The others might not question that, but I knew right away that something was going on. Honestly, a new look? You're almost worse at lying than you are at tinsel football. Come on, let's go have a drink. "

"And that was Curtis' idea? I should have guessed right away! ” Quintin tugged with relish on his curled straw.  
The two sat in the laboratory, each holding a glass of bubbling liquid from which white vapor rose. Countless test tubes piled up behind them. It hissed and splashed around them.  
Bernard nodded. "I wanted to talk him out of it, but you know how he is." Then he got serious. “You can’t tell anyone, you hear me? I gave my word to Santa! "  
Quintin shrugged. “You know you can trust me. But seriously: Santa would really have to suffer from aberrations of taste if he thinks rubber skin and a plastic beard are the latest craze! "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Quintin in, because i think Bernard needs at least one friend and from what i've seen in other fanfictions, his character has a lot of untapped potential, unlike Jack Frost.


	7. 7

Bernard would have loved not to get up that morning. He had barely slept, and the moments when he did were plagued with nightmares. The idea of crawling back under the covers and just ignoring everything was actually tempting. His sense of duty prevented him from doing so, however. The job as head elf was no picnic. Especially when, like today, it was a matter of briefing the toy Santa. Sighing, he put a candy cane in his mouth and set about unraveling the mess on his head. he black curls seemed to have a life of their own, sticking out wildly in all directions. It took a lot of dexterity and magic to subdue them. He had tried dreadlocks in the early nineties, but that hadn't helped either. Fortunately, he still had his beret, the last resort to keep his hair in check should they decide to defy gravity during the day. The piece of dark green velvet had been a parting gift from Arik, his mentor and head elf before him. Attached to it was a badge that showed his rank as a superior. Each Santa chose their own badge. In 1994 it was a star. Scott had chosen a round piece of brass.  
When Bernard was finally finished with his morning routine, he had the choice between a hearty breakfast or punctuality, as always. Of course, he chose the latter. And so he skipped breakfast and instead stuffed a cookie jar and a thermos with cocoa into his shoulder bag, along with today's work schedule and the agenda.

"I'm Santa!"  
The toy Santa began to dance in front of the mirror while Bernard and Curtis watched him. The head elf got more and more the feeling that fate had a sick sense of humor and had now decided to play a joke on him.  
"I think that might work," he said.  
What else should he have said? That all of this seemed like a bad joke to him? As much as he hated lying, sometimes it was better to swallow your pride and just play along. Even if the script was just shitty.  
"Good job, Curtis," he forced himself to add without looking at the younger one.  
"Would it kill you to give a whole hearted compliment?" Replied Curtis, which Bernard acknowledged with a roll of his eyes before he turned back to the wrong Santa.  
"Santa, I want you to take a look at this!" Curtis caught his attention and took out the handbook.  
"All right," the toy Santa called and leaned down to the little elf. "Nice!"  
"No, i want you to read it."  
The doppelganger gave a broken laugh and grabbed the book. "Then let's be a little more specific, shall we? I'll check it out at my desk. "  
Bernard didn't think it was a good idea. They couldn't use a second Curtis. Besides, most of the rules were out of date anyway. Nobody knew how many rules there were, and apart from the most important ones, they were not followed anyway. Or at least rather seen as guidelines.  
"How does he know the desk?" He hissed to Curtis.  
The little elf craned his chest proudly. “I programmed him that way. He shares almost all memories with the real Santa. "  
He trudged confidently towards the desk. “You have to learn everything that is in the book! Only with the book will you be a good Santa! "  
Bernard was about to object that it was character qualities and selflessness that made a good Santa. But he let it go. What would it have changed anyway?  
The toy Santa picked up a magnifying glass and nodded eagerly. “I will remember all the rules! I will obey all the rules! Because rules are important! "  
"I like the guy" stated Curtis.  
Bernard did not share this view.  
"Hi, Santa!" It sounded and Abby entered the room, carrying a tray of hot cocoa.  
"Hi?" The doppelganger stared back and forth between the elf and the two men, confused. Obviously he had no idea who she was or what to say.  
"Oh. You look ... ” Abby began suspiciously.  
"Like he got a good night's sleep!" Bernard interrupted her.  
Don't upset the toy Santa. An angry rubber double running amok was the last thing they needed.  
"Like you got a very goodnight's sleep!", She corrected herself and smiled. "How about a nice cocoa?"  
Toy Santa looked up from the handbook and gave Curtis a questioning look. He nodded hastily as a sign that he would answer the question in the affirmative. The double mimicked the open-mouthed nod until Curtis motioned for him to close it.  
"Careful, it's hot!" Abby warned, handing him the mug.  
"Of course it is!" The doppelganger grabbed the drink and looked again at Curtis, who mimed him to drink.  
He literally tumbled the cocoa down. He emptied the mug in four sips and slammed it on the table, causing Abby to step back in shock.  
"That's delicious!" He boomed. “I love cocoa! Cocoa is incredibly refreshing! More cocoa! "  
"Right away!" Abby assured him and hurried out of the room.  
"Wohoo, Santa feels a little buzz!"  
Bernard gave Curtis a wry smile that expressed desperation rather than encouragement. It was the first time in 500 years of service that he wished he was anywhere but here.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which Bernard fucking SNAPS!!

"Santa, i need you to look up, put a smiley face on and say hello to your elves!"  
It was time to show the fake Santa around the shop and put his credibility to the test. There was a lot of activity everywhere. The elves worked on toys, baked, read wish lists, or took care of general security. Bernard was relieved to see that at least something was going according to plan.  
"Ho, ho, ho, you're doing wonderful job!" Shouted the doppelganger.  
An elf pushed his way out of the crowd and held out a wooden car to the plastic double. "Santa, when you said bigger wheels, did you mean like that?"  
Fake Santa looked up from the handbook. “Ho, ho, ho! You are doing a wonderful job! ” He exclaimed in a tone like he was mocking himself.  
That didn't seem to bother the elf, because he went back to work satisfied.  
Bernard nodded. "Not bad. Just dial it down a little on the ho, ho, ho's. Otherwise you're golden. "  
The doppelganger, however, decided not to heed this advice and continued his shouting. The head elf turned to Curtis, letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.  
Curtis put his hands on his hips judiciously. “Why don't you admit it? You were right Curtis and I was wrong! "  
Bernard rolled his eyes. Admitting others to be right and to admit their own mistakes was against the proud elven nature and something that was particularly difficult for him. But whatever. Contrary to his fears, nothing bad had happened yet. And how did the saying go again? Give credit where credit is due.  
"Okay, okay!", He raised his hands resignedly, "I admit it. The elves are happy and work hard. Everything will be fine! ” Confidently he poked the younger man.  
Inwardly, he vowed that this would be the first and last time he would do this. Not that Curtis thought of himself to be better than him.  
"This is really interesting reading!" The fake Santa joined them and pointed to the handbook. "Unfortunately, some rules are not being followed."  
"I've been saying that all along!" Curtis agreed. "Things have gotten a little too sloppy around here."  
Bernard glared at him. The praise was already taking its revenge. Anger rose in him and a bitter taste like bile spread in his mouth. Or maybe the cookies came up that he had hastily stuffed into himself during a short break. He was about to say something, but gritted his teeth before anything but words came out.  
"Yes and negligence means mistakes!" The doppelganger raised his index finger admonishingly. "And you know how much I hate mistakes!"  
Curtis looked defiantly at Bernard.  
"I think I have to change a few things here."  
"Sure, what do you have in mind, boss?" The tech elf followed him eagerly.  
Bernard stared after them. The uncomfortable feeling that had spread through him since the arrival of the doppelganger intensified. He wasn't sure whether he felt like crying, screaming, or laughing hysterically. Since a head elf did not show his feelings in public, he only folded his arms behind his back.

The next few days didn't make Bernard happier either. The fake Santa continued to do nothing but praise the elves with the same stupid "ho, ho, ho's" and spend the rest of his time locked in his office with the handbook. Curtis savored his victory and seemed to notice none of it. With every hour that passed, Bernard's mood seemed to rattle further rapidly into the cellar, and in some circles it was already rumored that, had he not been the head elf, his name would have been at the top of the naughty list.  
Today was no different. Trixie, a red-haired elf, was balancing a tray when she stumbled. Desperately she waved her arms to prevent the inevitable, but too late. The tray slid out of her grip in a high arc and hit another elf in the back of the head. He fell to the ground and dragged the elf in front with him, which in turn triggered a chain reaction. Elves fell like dominoes, one at a time. However, it was the last of them who made the disaster perfect. He had held a ball that was now rolling across the workshop. The object arched, picked up pace, and ... hit against the ballroom doors. The shock snapped the lock, the doors popped open, releasing a bevy of enchanted balls large and small, which began to bounce happily around the workshop. Pretty much everything in their way broke.  
Now Bernard could no longer contain himself. The pent-up frustration of several days broke through. Snorting, he stood up in front of Trixie, his face and pointed ears had turned purple. The elf, which he towered over by at least a head, made herself even smaller.  
“Look what you've done! You cotton headed ninny-muggins! Clean this up and then meet me in my office immediately so that you can pick up your sentence! And be glad I don't let you clean the reindeer stalls with your tongue! "  
Tears gathered in her eyes before she turned away and went about her business with a choked sob.  
Without exception, they all stared at the head elf in shock. Bernard had turned rude to an incompetent worker more than once, but he had never made anyone cry.


End file.
